


Phracku

by CollingwoodGirl, JackPhryne4eva, mewme, pulpriter, Shamashe



Category: Miss Fisher - Fandom
Genre: Phracku
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollingwoodGirl/pseuds/CollingwoodGirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackPhryne4eva/pseuds/JackPhryne4eva, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewme/pseuds/mewme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamashe/pseuds/Shamashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mewme - the evil temptress also known phrynef_ismyrolemodel - started this mad discussion. Then, JackPhryne4Eva, the equally brilliant smart-ass contributes:</p><p>How about haikus<br/>Very Short<br/>Low Commitment<br/>(not a haiku but damn funny in a 5/3/4 makes a perfect triangle sort of way)</p><p>Then, the rest of us loonies online went on a phracku-jam-sesh. The first set of phracku's are raw from first night. There is no reason why these can't develop further.</p><p>Want to contribute? Please do! Just write a comment and you will be given your own page and official Phraku title.</p><p>Each page is dedicated to a single author so that they can see/respond to comments. On each page, general phracku is at the top. Episode phracku follows. Authors will put a little (NEW) note with their additions so you can quickly see what has changed with a story update.</p><p>28 Sept, 2015 Update: This page was shifted around a bit to accommodate Rakish-panties-in-a-bunch-Angle, who was Desperately Seeking Organization (what they hey...it can be better than Susan...just sayin'). Now you know too much...<br/>Update:  This page was lost but now it is found.  Amazing Phracku lives on!<br/>Update:  Seasons 2 and 3 added<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. By Mewme: Our Glorious Queen of the Phracku

I.

His fingers found her  
 skin. Soft. Supple. Silk over  
 creamy flesh. He sighed

Into her neck. Lips   
and teeth, mouths full of need and  
 desire won out.

She gasped his name. Jack.   
The one man’s name that held her  
 after all this time.

He stared into her   
eyes. Phryne. Witch. Temptress. He   
lost himself in her.

\------------------------------

II.

His grunts filled the dim  
chamber as shoulder met stone.  
Please, please, please he thought

As he struggled to  
be free. Please, please, please he cried  
as he ran down the

stone corridor. Her  
voice as she fought turning his  
fear to rough frantic

breaths. Please, please, please he  
prayed as he watched, helpless to  
intervene. Proud and

terrified. He shook  
with relief as she stood tall  
and faced her demons.

He caught her as she  
collapsed, childlike and free.  
The first time in years.

Please, please, please he breathed  
into her raven hair. He  
carried her away.

Let her rest, her dream  
of boats, Pirates, and of a  
little girl's smile.


	2. by Rakish Angle, Veritable Chair and Sofa of the Phracku Realm

Two cocks fight behind  
The robe she saves for after  
One cock will endure

–*–

Goodness, I am hot  
Then, please let me undress you  
Now, so much hotter

–*–

Sinks into bathtub  
Thinking of the day before  
Yes, it was heaven

–*–

Grizzled whispering  
I want all you have, right now  
Phryne, you have it

–*–

Coffee wakes them  
Another scent in their room  
Mouths water again

–*–

Whoops, I didn’t mean  
Oh, but you did, totally  
Does that make me bad?

–*–

Do your duty, Jack.  
Peel me a grape, then put some  
sugar in my bowl

–*–

Your ballistic shoe  
Picks locks off doors faster than  
I can undress you

–*–

I lost my lock pick  
During a break and enter  
Best call the police

 

**S1E01: Cocaine Blues**

I.

This is a crime scene.  
Your thoughts unnecessary  
But, did you see this?

II.

Help with the soiree?  
You have not changed one jot, Aunt  
Nevermind, i'll dance

III.

Cocaine? Let me try.  
Wait, I'm a professional  
Best to try again


	3. by CollingwoodGirl: Phracking Empress of the Phracku That Moves You

Ghosts pale in his wake,  
shadows dissolve into mist.  
Jack lets in the light.

 

~~~

 

Tears cling but do not  
fall. He is a man of pride,  
but not one of stone.

 

~~~

 

Detectives detect,  
but lovers learn. It's new,  
how he reads her skin.

 

~~~

 

The hairs curl against  
his neck. She brushes her lips  
across them. He sighs.

 

~~~

 

Hands thread through her hair.  
Nails graze her scalp. Who knew Jack  
could give such good head?

 

~~~

 

Sloppy knot, she thinks.  
It won't hold. His towel drops.  
So does her stomach.

 

~~~

 

Temple of Phryne.  
Her breath anoints his body.  
Baptism of flesh.

 

~~~

 

Hips and lips and  
strong fingertips. Talented Jack.  
Standing O!vation.


	4. by Pulpriter, Preacher of Phrack from the Pulpit of Life

I.

Bejeweled, feathered, furred,  
Dripping with wealth and beauty,  
Unattainable.

Forthright, straightforward,  
Reaching for justice for all,  
A man to admire.

Quick, witty, clever,  
Intellects meeting, mating,  
Forging connection.

Eyes seeing so much,  
Deep into their souls, their hearts,  
The missing pieces.

Wanting something more,  
Need to feel the sensation,  
Driven together.

Man, woman, longing,  
Seeking, desiring, finding,  
No longer alone.

*** and for laughs***

She drives him crazy  
Won’t he ever make his move  
Time for more whiskey!

II.

She tried to stop him.  
He tossed away her warnings.  
Slow and close at last.

“No magic for you?”  
What a question! “No magic?”  
It was always there.

What was he doing?  
She clearly wanted others  
But he couldn’t leave

 

S1E01: Cocaine Blues  
I.  
A pretty young maid  
A napkin, a distraction,  
Leads Hugh to trouble.

II.  
Red-raggers often  
Play this game, to fool police  
With false evidence.

III.  
It seems so easy  
To investigate, detect.  
This isn’t a game.

S1 E02: Murder on the Ballarat Train

What had she started  
When she invited him in  
And offered a drink?

S1 E10: Death by Miss Adventure

He took the doctor  
In on suspicion, no choice;  
But he’d find the truth.

S2 E02: Death Comes Knocking

“Your greatest passion”;  
If only he could be hers.  
She was surely his.

S2 E03: Dead Man's Chest

Walking in the dark,  
Dripping, laughing, sneaking in,  
So much fun he is!

S2 E06: Marked for Murder

Uses for a scarf:  
Murder weapon, team spirit,  
Or an overture.

S2 E07: Blood at the Wheel

Heart pounding, aching,  
He approached the dead body—  
The face wasn’t hers.

S3 E03: Murder and Mozzarella

Another woman  
Why did she never suspect?  
What was she to him?

S3 E04: Blood and Money

I.  
He touches the scarf  
To examine; but soft skin  
Cannot be ignored.

II.  
Never imagined  
That her heart could fill with joy  
From a tiny pin

S3 E08: Death Do Us Part  
"Not a telescope"  
Miss Fisher's scriptwriters must  
Be on holiday.


	5. by JackPhryne4Eva...aka Miss Phrack Star JP4E, If You're Nasty

I.  
A Recap Haiku  
Perhaps obvious for some  
A challenge for me

II.  
I love these people  
Men and women who love phrack  
Lust love sex and smut

 

End Notes:

Having finished this  
I find haiku easier  
Than I thought before

These are so fun!

 

S1 E01: Cocaine Blues

Scene One: Arrival  
Honorable Miss Fisher  
Hugged friend Doc Mac

Scene Two: What Was Next?  
Abyssinian? Dancing?  
Foil Mr. Foyle!

Scene Three: An Invite  
Thwarted by death of a cad  
Dot Williams, maid

Delivered the news  
Aunt Prudence scooped the story  
Lydia Andrews

(Murderous wife)  
Feign'd tears, fainted on Sasha  
"Adorable" DeLisse

Scene Four: The Police  
Constable Collins met Dot  
Let Miss Fisher pass

Into the crime scene  
Inspector Jack Robinson  
A man with a plan

Scene Five: Abortion  
Bert, Cec sav'd Alice from death  
Bleeding upholst'ry!

Scene Six: A Soirée  
Drinking buckets of champagne  
Dancing the tango

The maid? Murderer?  
If clever woman you will  
Need, here is my card

Scene Seven: Gun Chase  
Sasha tried, failed trade earrings  
For drugs to meet King

Of Snow / Cokey and  
Bull met their match in Phryne  
Disguised as a scrag

Scene Eight: Dèveloppé  
Sasha returned the earrings  
And Dottie arrived

Scene Nine: Phryne and  
Dot investigate Madame  
Breda and bath house

Madame part of drug -  
Abortion ring / Cocaine to  
Pay off Butcher George

Scene Ten: Rescue Dot  
Red rose green door screamed for help  
Cec knocked George out flat

Scene Eleven: Steam  
Bath / Sasha and Phryne caught  
By the King of Snow

Lydia escaped  
Husband John, Embarrassment  
Saved herself with crime

Strip them both / Bert tried  
Dot called for Inspector's help  
Jack opened death trap

Scene Twelve: Mac Wants Facts  
Lydia Andrews takes no  
Sugar in her tea

Scene Thirteen: Venture  
Notice: Miss Phryne Fisher,  
Lady Detective


	6. by Shamashe, Shapeshifting Sherpa of the Shores of Phrack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bravely facing an alternative 5/3/4 Phracku formatting.

S1E01: Cocaine Blues  
“… my oldest friend’s newest enterprise.  
The Hon. Miss Fisher,  
lady detective!” Clink. Pause.

“I do like the sound of that.“  
She sips. Smiles.  
And notices everyone’s expressions.

Buoyant, baffled, bemused.  
Mac: With her sly grin.  
Dot: With her widening eyes.

Bert: Gulping. Looking at Cec.  
Cec: Smirking. Drinking.  
Constable Collins: Amazed. Appreciative.

And Inspector Robinson: Aka, Jack.  
Sipping and choking  
Trying to look serious.

Failing utterly, to his dismay.  
What’s he about?  
What’s behind those eyes?

If she is any judge of men.  
And she is,  
he’s a personal investigation.

She glimpses an oblique reflection  
near the window,  
of a “Lady” presiding…

Just for a moment, she sees  
a smaller, ragtag  
version of herself there.

Staring through that same window.  
A blond child,  
staring in with her.

Then older, in stained white.  
Accepting cupped tea,  
from blood smeared hands.

She blinks a laughing tear.  
Called to present,  
by seeking, happy voices.

In the sudden snap back  
she sees him,  
eyes watching her intently.

“Trying to fathom it Inspector?”  
Not Jack yet.  
Not without his permission.

Adrift in a Race  
Based on S1 E13: King Memses' Curse  
Notes: I was inspired by Haiku II in this Phracku montage. It's my first time writing like this - old school 5/3/4 huh. Yeah, scary! But I'm jumping into the deep end and I hope you like it! And thanks for the invite. I love your authorships one and all. And of course, the ensemble of the series. Here goes…

“Jack, he’s right there! Jaaack!”  
“Breathe, just breathe  
Phryne, I've got you.”

She slips in and out,  
just barely conscious.  
He races her away.

Each bounce is a prompt.  
To hang on,  
to hold on-to Jack.

Her senses narrow to tunnel  
visions of him  
now, held this way.

Small pieces of color and  
light, in dark.  
The contrast of him.

Registering his smell and sweat.  
Not unknown, yet  
not smelled and tasted

Yet! Desires come to fore.  
But muffle deeper.  
“Why can’t I speak?”

Sideways jolt. Groan. So cold…  
A motor roars.  
Unconsciousness begs to win.

Familiar arms that embrace her.  
Familiar voice, trembling.  
“Phryne, stay with me!”

“Jack!” but he can’t hear.  
“I … Thank you!”  
Maybe he can sense?

 

Chapter 7: S1 E02 Murder on the Ballarat Train  
Summary:

Jack muses about a self discovery

 

Notes:

"And you may call me Phryne.  
Although hardly anyone else does."

 

“Oh, but I will”  
he thinks, “someday…”  
“When you don’t expect it.”

He’s momentarily startled  
to hear his inner voice,  
once again.

Even in his privacy,  
this voice  
has grown silent.

By habit.  
By choice.  
In loneliness.

Why now? He wonders.  
What is it about this woman  
that brings back my voice?

Her light.  
Her warmth.  
Her beauty.

“Ahhh,”  
“I could lose myself in her.”  
What? Swallow. Blink.

He tosses back excellent Whiskey.  
Observes her covertly,  
Lighter and lightened.

He thinks of his younger self  
The self of this voice  
He smiles.

She welcomes it.  
With her knowing look  
and compelling sense of self.

Is she an echo of him?  
Of who he was?  
Who he could be?

Brilliant, Intrepid, Stalwart.  
Words used to define him  
Did they?

“Take on the world my boy!”  
“Show them what you’ve got.”  
And then…

A long time ago.  
A different land.  
A different man.

Far away wishes.  
How he would have liked  
to come home to a child.

To share the care,  
give the love,  
guide and protect.

He thinks of Jane.  
Of the life she can have here.  
The love she can receive.

Finally.  
“Jack, my boy,”  
“maybe you can too?”

 

Chapter 6: S1 E02 Murder on the Ballarat Train by Shamashe  
Summary:

Jack muses about a self discovery

 

Notes:

"And you may call me Phryne.  
Although hardly anyone else does."

 

“Oh, but I will”  
he thinks, “someday…”  
“When you don’t expect it.”

He’s momentarily startled  
to hear this inner voice  
once again.

Even in his privacy,  
this voice  
has grown silent.

By habit.  
By choice.  
In loneliness.

Why now? He wonders.  
What is it about this woman  
that brings back this voice?

Her light.  
Her warmth.  
Her beauty.

“Ahhh,”  
“I could lose myself in her.”  
What? Swallow. Blink.

He tosses back excellent Whiskey.  
Observes her covertly,  
lighter and lightened.

He thinks of his younger self,  
the self of this voice.  
He smiles.

She welcomes it.  
With her knowing look  
and compelling sense of self.

Is she an echo of him?  
Of who he was?  
Who he could be?

Brilliant, Intrepid, Stalwart.  
Words once used to define him.  
Did they?

“Take on the world my boy!”  
“Show them what you’ve got.”  
And then…

A long time ago.  
A different land.  
A different man.

Far away wishes.  
How he would have liked  
to come home to a child.

To share the care,  
give the love,  
guide and protect.

He thinks of Jane.  
Of the life she can have here.  
The love she can receive.

Finally.  
“Jack, my boy,”  
“maybe you can too?”


	7. S1 E03 The Green Mill Murder by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picture is worth a reverie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: In first episodes, P/J may have only known surface things about each other. But I feel they bring more to their relationship than matching wits…. They may bring each other the gift of exploring themselves a bit deeper. 
> 
> I am following the scripts literally, then taking it out a step at the end. Not necessarily angst, as so many of the authors have so brilliantly written, but a bit of raw, honest, almost innocent, burgeoning self awareness. 
> 
> Episode-by-episode thoughts in semi-haiku verse. I hope you like them. Feel free to comment. And thanks for letting me swim in this pond for awhile. ☺

“…I thought your hands were tied.”  
“Yes, but yours are not.”

 

He’d hoped  
she would continue their banter,  
they did it so well.

It was fun,  
and life was rarely  
what he would call fun anymore. 

But instead of turning with a quip,  
she turned -  
and sashayed away.

And she did that well too!  
A jazz vibrato  
in a dress.

Even her photographs,  
so quickly concealed,  
couldn’t contain her movement.

He was trying  
not to watch her.  
And she knew it!

Hugh’s muffled laughter.  
The swish of her clothes  
as she mugged for the camera.

Funny,  
how he always noticed  
the sound of her first.

Well, almost first.  
Often it was her perfume  
that alerted his senses.

No, it was the sound of her!  
The roar of her car,  
the tap of her heels.

The soft, snappy, husky  
cadence of her voice,  
when she said…

“Back again, Jack!”  
Like her picture, came to life.  
“Jack?”

“Snap out of it man!”  
“It’s just a picture.”  
No! She’s here!

Standing by the desk.  
Smiling that smile of hers.  
Watching him smile at her picture.

Caught in the act, so to speak.  
“Um, ur”  
“Miss Fisher?”

So, she’d come back  
after all.  
Let the play begin.


	8. S1 E04  Death at Victoria Dock by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of introspection prompted by talk of the Police strike.

“It'd be a tactical error to think you had me pegged just yet, Miss Fisher.”  
“I'm very glad to hear it.”

 

As she drove off,   
Phryne envisioned a younger Jack  
in constabulary uniform.

While many might assume  
his father-in-law  
kept him on the force.

She already knew  
he would not have allowed it,  
had he known.

His integrity would object.  
Oh, she may not have him pegged yet,   
but she did know his values.

Honest, wise and committed.  
It’s doubtful he was   
any different then.

His intelligence and care  
would have allowed him  
a deeper insight.

And that, she thought,  
is one of his   
greatest assets.

As Jack walked off  
he too,   
reviewed his earlier days.

How he had a vision  
of order and truth.  
Of how scared he really was.

How close he came  
to having his life change  
to a different direction.

As he sometimes did,  
but usually only  
with a glass of Whiskey,

he though of the man   
he might have become.  
Where his passions might have pointed.

He thought of himself  
as a good man.  
Dedicated to his work.

No, good wouldn’t have  
been affected.  
But passion?

Did he settle?  
Was he so grateful  
that he took on a cause?

This talk of the strike  
made him wonder,  
if he left his passions behind.

War changed him.  
But did he ever gain a balance?  
He certainly tried to in his garden.

Is that where his passions lay now?  
It made him smile to think of  
Miss Fishers effect on him recently.

He could not act on it of course,  
But he could feel more alive  
than he had in a long time.

Perhaps,  
he didn’t have himself pegged  
just yet either?


	9. S1 E05  Raisins and Almonds by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marriage and healing.

“But a marriage is still a marriage, Miss Fisher.”  
“Especially to a man of honor.”

 

He expects her to leave.  
She expects to leave.  
But she stays.

Because   
of the look on his face,  
the slump of his shoulders.

A man resigned to his choices.  
She doesn’t know him this way.  
She feels a deep compassion.

So she stays,   
in silent company  
with him.

He’s not lost or grieving,  
just reflective and perhaps hurting.  
What must this be like for him?

It’s not her place to pry.  
She will support him if he wants it.  
She has come to care a great deal.

And so they sit.  
His gaze fixed on his lap.  
Twirling the ring on his finger.

“I loved her you know,” he says finally.  
“I never thought it would be any other way.”  
“But it was different after the war.”

“I was different.”  
“And I suppose she was different too.”  
“There was no way for her to cope.”

“There was no way for me to share it.”  
“How do you share war?”  
“You can’t.” “Not really,” she says softly. 

“You sound like   
you have personal experience   
Miss Fisher.” “Phryne, Jack, please.”

“And yes, I do.”  
“How do you cope?”  
“One precious day at a time Jack”

“It changed me too.”  
“But now I can be lighter again.”  
“I can stop ducking at shadows.”

“I make every day count.”  
“Sometimes, I act outrageously,”  
“but it keeps things in perspective for me.”

“I can savor life - and have no guilt.”  
“Have you been able to do that Jack?”  
“Have no guilt?”

She looks closely at his bent head.  
Sees a splash of a tear  
on his wedding ring.

“I think Miss -- Phryne,”  
“that I shall always have guilt.”  
“But if I allow myself,”

“I may also have hope again.”  
“In the short time I’ve known you,”  
“you’ve let me see that.”

“Honor can also be courage, Jack.”  
“It lets you reach for what you deserve.”  
He looks up and they hold their gaze.

“Thank you, Phryne!”  
“More than you know,   
you have helped me.”

She reaches out and touches his hand  
“You’re welcome. Jack.”  
“Anytime!” She smiles.

And with a swoosh to her coat,  
She gracefully gets up and leaves.  
A slow smile forms on Jack’s face - and lingers.


	10. S1 E06  Ruddy Gore by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacks singing career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I couldn't resist the Aarrg!

“Perhaps a career in the theatre beckons after all, Inspector.”  
“Think I'll stick to crime.”

 

But as they walked   
to opposite sides of the stage  
Jack found himself grinning.

Remembering the excitement  
and the nerves  
of his first performance.

“Grander Jack!”  
“Bigger voice!”  
“Wider movements!”

“Express yourself in this role!”  
“You can do it!”  
Could he?

After all,  
it wasn’t what he really wanted.  
He wanted to be a Pirate!

Yes, a Pirate! Aarrg!  
A swashbuckling, outrageous character  
of legend and romance. 

As a Pirate,  
he could be free  
and enjoys the spoils… 

No expectations   
to be different than the stereotype.  
No problem with doing anything at all.

And a singing Pirate?  
Well, he could handle that.  
He thought of singing as his gift.

Maybe even a career?  
Maybe he’d be famous someday?  
He was ready…

“Robinson, John!”  
“Center stage!”  
“You’re to play the Major General!”

“Next!”  
Wait. What?  
The Major General?

But… he wasn’t old enough,  
experienced enough.  
He was all they had left!

Halfway through the dress rehearsal  
he got the giggles.  
Then, he simply couldn’t stop laughing.

His voice had broken.  
Something that hadn’t happened to him   
since he was a youth.

One minute he was singing   
“… of a modern Major General…”  
in the rich, deep, Baritone he was proud of. 

The next,  
he was a tenor.  
But… he was clearing his throat, not giggling!

He did not giggle.  
“But we heard you Jack!”  
“Mr. Robinson?”

“Is there a problem?”  
“Ur, no sir,”  
“just a dry throat, sir.” 

“Well, see to it then.”  
“We’ll expect you here tomorrow.”  
“The curtain goes up at 7! Yes?”

“Yes sir!”  
“No problem sir.”  
But there was a problem.

A big problem!  
No matter what he did,  
he could not get his voice down.

He was mortified.  
He felt like a boy.  
He felt like a failure.

Well, all he could do was try.  
Warmed up, curtain up.  
“I am the very model of…”

He struggled through it.  
But he saw the critic in the front row  
Scribbling furiously.

It was then that he knew his “career” was over.  
Maybe being in charge was more his forte’?  
But one thing was for sure.

He’d never sing operetta again.  
He glanced back at Phryne as he exited,   
stage left.


	11. S1 E07 Murder in Montparnasse by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprising thoughts about painting

“That's what surprises me, Detective Inspector.”  
“In fact lately you're full of surprises.”

 

Surprises?  
Humm, not to him they weren’t.  
Not for one minute!

Spontaneous though the kiss may have been,  
it’s not that he hadn’t been thinking of it.  
How to, when to, if ever, could he, would she?

Over and over in his mind.   
Perplexing   
and distressing him.

But then…   
the thought of her in danger…  
he didn’t think -

he just acted.  
He told himself it was just to distract her,  
but that was a lie!

It was a vent of the pent up frustration  
and concealed passion  
he always felt around her.

That it was acceptable,  
appropriate even,  
made it excusable.

And now here she sat.  
Revealing her painting.  
Flirtatious, curious, questioning.

Did she suspect  
that he’d had it tipped against his wall?  
Sweet mockery…

Time spent just looking.  
Not allowing a touch.  
But yes, a feel…

To some men  
the painting would be erotica.  
A panting excuse…

But for him,  
it was tribute.  
Pure appreciation for the woman.

Her beauty.  
Her courage.  
Her need.

His need.  
Ok, lust,  
there was lust involved!

So quick to notice.   
She must have been aware.  
He hoped she was aware.

But also of his respect.  
Of his care.  
And deeper… the real surprise!


	12. S1Ep02 Murder on the Ballarat Train

**Cast of characters:**  
Dubious **Mr. Merton**  
The great hypnotist

**Miss Gay** , Foster mum  
And equally suspicious  
Makes gut-groaning meals 

Thief, liar **Jane Ross**  
Able use of the knife to  
defend her friend, Ruth

**Mrs. Henderson**  
Turned her talons on daughter  
Deservedly dead

**Alastair Herbert** ,  
Rowing Champion, failed his  
Medical degree

Nearly a lawyer  
The charmer, **Lindsay Thompson** ,  
Inherits the cash

Disinherited  
**Eunice Henderson** , betrothed  
To the murderer

Poor **Alexander  
** **Cotton** had lost his wife, gained  
his son the same night

Dénouement: locked up  
Murderer; Girls freed from crime  
_**Jack** stays for nightcap_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Encountered problems  
> Trying to edit my chapter proved insurmountable obstacle.  
> I will probably incur the wrath of the RakishMinx (wearing a jaunty hat, I think)


	13. Phrack Me Slowly

III.  


Revolt from within  
One tiny voice then a shout  
A roar: Yes, Jack, Yes!

\----------

An awakening  
A rebirth, a Renaissance  
Light glows in his eyes

\----------

‘Cross vast ocean tides  
Yawning wide pulling apart  
Flotsam and jetsam 

Hugh and Dorothy  
Finding each other holding  
Anchoring the other


	14. S1 E08  Away with the Fairies by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illuminating thoughts

“Perhaps we could allow ourselves just one candle.  
What do you think?” “I think I could cope with that.”

 

As she lighted the center candle,  
a separate piece of the whole,  
he thought of how they always were.

Circling around with each other,  
then illuminating the central issue.  
Did they need more than that?

And like the candles,  
lightness was always available,   
if desired.

That she was careful of his feelings  
impressed him.  
Even if it was “just flirtation.”

Was it him that was more vulnerable?  
Or was it her?  
These were next steps for them both.


	15. S1 E09 Queen of the Flowers by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About being a guardian angel

“And what will you be? Her guardian angel?”   
“Much more my style.”

 

As she swung into her car  
she laughed.  
Yes, she was a guardian angel of sorts!

She didn’t plan it,  
but she had no regrets.  
She hugged the papers to her.

Jane was safe now.  
Adopted and adapted.  
Free to become…

Her extended “family,”  
each in need at times,  
now blossoming…

Clients,  
had their conclusions.  
Some, their lives…

What a grand way, as Mac would say,  
to use her influence.  
To make a difference.

She remembered times in her life  
when she had needed  
a guardian angel.

Times when she was   
desperate and afraid.  
Times when help was offered.

Not with a mystic flutter of wings,  
but with grace and care   
and patience!

And Jack? Yes, him too.  
Giving and given to.  
Guiding and guided.

Showing her his heart.  
Letting him in.  
What more could a guardian angel ask for?


	16. S1 E10 Death by Miss Adventure by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burning Foyle for the greater good

“Tell me there's a greater good than my own need to know.”  
“…You know what to do.”

 

As the paper burned,  
she crouched by the fireplace.  
Her shoulders shaking. 

And he learned her depth then.  
Felt her struggle.  
Saw her courage.

She’d made her choice,  
and he was proud of her.  
He knew it was painful.

But he’d never doubted her.  
Never really thought she would give in  
to that madman!

She’d turned to him.  
Wanted his advice…   
This was precious.

As he waited,  
he saw the moment she let go,  
the moment she trusted.

In herself.  
In him, perhaps.  
In Janey.

Faith. She was willing to have faith.  
And she’d shared it  
with him.

In all his life,  
He’d never experienced  
this feeling.

Something deep inside him  
recognized the turning point -  
the bond between them.

And he knew,   
he would never be the same.  
And neither would she.


	17. S1 E11  Blood and Circuses by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne lost Janey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked for happier or more clever ending script lines, but this one is a round about to Phryne's grief.   
> I tried to give it girth.

“I lost her, Jack.”  
“I lost her.”

 

Pain!  
Wrenching her away.  
Waves of guilt and grief.

All she could see  
was Janey and her, watching the show  
and then nothing.

No Janey!  
Not there by her side?  
Gone!

Taken by a psychopath  
in an instant of distraction.  
It was all her fault!

The sounds and smells of Circus life  
closed in on her.  
Janey’s laughter in her ears.

She was reaching,  
spinning,  
falling…

“Phryne, Phryne!”  
“Here, focus here!”  
“Come back - please!”

Hands. Hands holding.  
Janey and her -   
holding hands.

“Phryne!”  
“I’m here, Phryne!”  
“Hold on to me!”

Janey?   
“MISS FISHER!”  
“Jack?”

She blinked.  
Where was Janey?  
Slowly she came to a blurry consciousness.

“Jack?”  
“What happened?”  
“Where am I?”

“At the moment, you are in my car  
And we are going to see Dr. McMillan.”  
“Let’s hope you don’t have a concussion.”

“How did I get here?”  
“I don’t remember.”  
“I picked you up.”

“What?”  
“You tripped,”  
“and hit your head on the bleacher.”

“The bleacher?”  
“Yes, Phryne, at the circus.”  
“But you’ll be ok.”

“No, Jack.”  
“Not while that maniac is alive.”  
“Things will never be ok.”

“We’ll get him eventually,”  
“I promise you.”  
“I’ll make sure justice is done.”


	18. S1 E12 Murder in the Dark by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A play on words, pun intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, I did have to "brush up my Shakespeare" for this one!

“So I'm to be the triple pillar of the world transformed into a strumpet's fool?”  
“You've been at least a single pillar for far too long.”

 

“Yes, Miss Fisher,”  
“but the world I rule is very small.”  
“And I’ll not be viewed as a jester in it.”

“Nor will I have you viewed as a whore!”  
“If this were to be my Act One with you,”  
“would you really want it to be so gaudy?”

“Well, certainly not tawdry Jack.”   
“But in this costume,”  
“They’ll be no doubt of your dominion.” 

“And in that costume,”  
“my dear Cleopatra,”  
“Of your sway…”


	19. S1 E13   Memses' Curse by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne's birthday party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same episode, but much different from my original and first posting. 
> 
> I'll say again, thank you so much for opening this door. I've tried to stay true to the themes and characters of the show, but also, a la Miss Fisher, write "Haiku" - my way. It's been such great fun. I'm honored to have been a part of it. 
> 
> I didn't want to write the conclusion about MF. I did want to end Season One with a smile. Hope you like it! :-))

“So you owe it to her to keep living to the hilt.”  
“…Help me to celebrate.”

 

She swirled.  
He watched.  
They toasted.

Eyes met,  
long and lingering.  
Hearts touching…

“Be happy Phryne!  
After so much grief,  
be happy…”

As he leaned against the doorframe  
he saw so much.  
Perhaps through different eyes tonight.

Her light bright -  
even when dimmed.  
They depended on it.

He knew he wasn’t always so bright.  
But since knowing her,  
how could he not be lighter?

Time stopped when she saw his eyes.  
A lifetime in a heartbeat.  
So much more to her than he knew.

He’d been there for her.  
He was here for her now.  
She’d never known this unswerving support before, from a man.

He looked at her like she was a world of possibilities  
to be savored and experienced.  
To be cherished.

In one moment,  
across the room,  
lit by the glint off his champagne glass,

she saw into him.  
And she let him  
see into her.


	20. The Birthday Party by Mewme

He holds her hand--strong  
and welcoming--a gentle  
reminder all is

not lost. There is hope  
mixed with the pain. Her family  
awaits. Champagne and 

whiskey. Cabbies and  
society. Connections  
formed by blood and heart.

Formed by love and song.  
She dances through the laughter,  
through her past to now.

Her birthday is here.  
He catches her eye. A raise  
of glasses. A look.

A moment shared for   
two people who need just as  
much as the other.

A fresh start. The past  
is to be forgotten and  
cherished at the same 

time. A gift for the  
birthday girl. Knowledge that her   
Jane is now at peace.


	21. For Mac by Mewme

She hangs her head. Her  
love is dead. Her love that she   
cannot weep for. Her

love that cannot be   
mourned. Behind these bars she must wait,  
helpless and hopeless,

waiting. Just waiting.   
Red head raised high, red eyes dry  
and searching her friend's

when the truth is told.   
Back straight but heart broken. She  
waits for rebuke. She 

waits for acceptance,  
for comfort. It's there as it  
is always given. 

It is her turn to  
be comforted. It is her  
turn to cry. To need

the words and the arms  
around her strong frame, now bent  
under the weight of

the past few days. Her  
heart will heal. But not yet, not   
so soon. First tears

and rage and grief to  
be expressed. Tears and rage  
and a heart to be 

soothed. Medicinal  
whiskey to be drunk and hands  
to hold hers. She'll heal. 

She does not know when  
but there is hope. Killer caught.  
Killer punished. Words 

whispered to herself.  
Physician: heal thyself. In   
time she thinks. In time.


	22. The Interruption by mewme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a Phracku but I am sure it will be okay. :-)

The tie hung loose in his fingers,  
the silk warm from her touch,  
wrinkled from her manipulation,  
contaminated by the scent of her skin.

She moved to him, voice husky,  
"let me," she crooned as she  
moved between his thighs. Intimate.   
Her ministrations smooth and deliberate. 

She wraps the fabric around his neck.   
The silk slips against cotton, her fingers firm  
as she twists and tightens the fabric, fingers hesitant on skin.

He looks down, counting the pulse at her throat.  
Her eyes flicker from throat to face,  
the line of his jaw, of lashes dark against his cheek.  
She moves closer to the scent of sweat and lust and man.

The door opens, spell broken.  
Embarrassment and need grey and heavy like fog.  
They move apart, further and further.  
She leaves, her desire trailing behind her like a scarf.


	23. Untitled by mewme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another non-phracku. Untitled for now.

Their words spoke nothing but their eyes filled pages--  
heat, passion, longing, need--  
A deep well of desire, full of  
cliches from poets long dead, from poets  
long forgotten, from poets treasured.

They waltzed around their feelings--  
one, two, three, one, two, three--  
a long, quick, quick movement.  
One step close with two steps away,  
Never truly coming together.

Breath mingling, but skin apart,  
drawn together like a boat to shore.  
The ocean pulsing and pushing and pulling,  
the currents dragging wood towards stone,  
breaking through the tide, pushing  
body to body, heat to heat as  
mouths remain silent.


	24. Phracku haiku by Pulpriter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happened in the translation: here is the original version of Chapter 4.   
> RakishAngle named me Pulpriter, Preacher of Phrack from the Pulpit of Life: I love it!

I.

Bejeweled, feathered, furred,  
Dripping with wealth and beauty,  
Unattainable.

Forthright, straightforward,  
Reaching for justice for all,  
A man to admire.

Quick, witty, clever,  
Intellects meeting, mating,  
Forging connection.

Eyes seeing so much,  
Deep into their souls, their hearts,  
The missing pieces.

Wanting something more,  
Need to feel the sensation,  
Driven together.

Man, woman, longing,  
Seeking, desiring, finding,  
No longer alone.

*** and for laughs***

She drives him crazy  
Won’t he ever make his move  
Time for more whiskey!

II. Guessing Game

Heart pounding, aching,  
He approached the dead body—  
The face wasn’t hers.

“No magic for you?”  
What a question! “No magic?”  
It was always there.

He took the doctor  
In on suspicion, no choice;  
But he’d find the truth.

She tried to stop him.  
He tossed away her warnings.  
Slow and close at last.

What had she started  
When she invited him in  
And offered a drink?

Uses for a scarf:  
Murder weapon, team spirit,  
Or an overture.

What was he doing?  
She clearly wanted others  
But he couldn’t leave

Never imagined  
That her heart could fill with joy  
From a tiny pin

“Your greatest passion”;  
If only he could be hers.  
She was surely his.

Another woman  
Why did she never suspect?  
What was she to him?

He touches the scarf  
To examine; but soft skin  
Cannot be ignored.

And again for laughs--  
"Not a telescope"  
Miss Fisher's scriptwriters must  
Be on holiday.

S1E01: Cocaine Blues  
I.  
A pretty young maid  
A napkin, a distraction,  
Leads Hugh to trouble.

II.  
Red-raggers often  
Play this game, to fool police  
With false evidence.

III.  
It seems so easy  
To investigate, detect.  
This isn’t a game.


	25. Haiku for One by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About Cocaine Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I forgot this one. A drabble more to the original format.

I

His overcoat arm extends  
meant to block  
silly arm  
just high enough  
to ease under

II

“I think I need  
that clever woman…”  
Dorothy’s blushing  
Phryne’s munching  
Earrings have danced off

III

Steamed up about it 

“Her tea Jack,"  
the sugar…"  
Our King is a Queen  
How does she do that?


	26. S2 E01:  Murder Most Scandalous by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts with a drink after Lulu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “…You're waving a red rag at a bull, Miss Fisher.  
> But I'm no longer in that ring.”

He watched her move.  
Gathering glasses, pouring drinks.  
Trying to tempt him, as always.

And tempted, as always, he was.  
Not immune to her charms,  
yet not willing to let her just charm him.

Because like parting her fan of feathers,  
she only revealed what she wanted  
and then, only with purpose.

He grinned at the thought of Lulu.  
A most obvious temptation  
with more purpose than usual. 

But like her,  
he only revealed himself  
when necessary.

Their personal dance  
was not unlike her cover,  
a piece-by-piece unveiling.

Looking like a prolonged tease.  
An extended arousal.  
An obvious climax.

In truth though,  
theirs was more intimately revealing.  
As, in stages, they bared their souls.


	27. S2 E02:  Death Comes Knocking by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack muses on his post palm reading passions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I see a very careful man, who professes to be cynical in the face of mysteries he can't explain, and claims to have no passions, in spite of a heart that runs as deep as the Pacific Ocean...”

Perhaps his passions were freed.  
Floating in an ocean,  
awaiting a wave.

He wasn’t the cynic he seemed.  
But war caused callous.  
Mysteries viewed now as ruse.

Approached now,  
with military tactics.  
Seeking resolution, not reward.

How cleverly his life had twisted.  
Choices both more and less clear.  
The path no longer as set.

Having moved on.  
He found he had to step back.  
Learning his balance again.

His heart?  
Kept close, protected.  
Cared for as best he could.

With Phryne though,  
different “tactics” might be needed.  
Perhaps he could go deeper after all?


	28. S2 E03 Dead Man's Chest by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's half dream state

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “And the pirate girls of Collingwood ruled the waves.  
> To pirates, adventurers and boys on bicycles.”

He turned over,  
flexing his legs,  
taking a breath.

So it had been a dream after all!  
He could still feel the wind  
and the pump of blood.

He still felt the excitement.  
The freedom of peddling.  
Scenery whipping by him.

Then it changed.  
Diving, Paddling, Swimming.  
Seeking… 

He remembered splashing  
to run up the shore,  
slightly embarrassed. 

He wasn’t ashamed of his body  
but it was the first time  
she’d seen him in his bathing suit.

He was grateful for his modesty panel.  
Of course, she was in hers too.  
Her suit though, much less modest!

She gave him  
a frankly appraising look.  
Then a blatantly approving smile.

Could he…  
maybe go back to this dream?  
He rolled over in hope.


	29. S2 E05  Murder A La Mode by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack muses about Phyrne's fashions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I'll never again dismiss the fashion world as frivolous.  
> It all looks harmless enough, but you never know what lurks beneath.  
> Usually lingerie. - Equally dangerous. And just one dress can be lethal.  
> Nightcap? Perhaps another time, at a less dangerous hour, in a less lethal dress.”

But oh, how he wanted to stay.  
Remove those filmy layers.  
Explore that lingerie.

Not for a moment  
had he been unaware  
of the power of her “fashion.”

The thick luxury of her furs.  
The softness of her silks.  
The tinkling sound of her beads.

She taunted him subtly.  
Inviting him in,  
keeping the door open.

Yet all he could do  
was acknowledge her,  
for now.

Keep dancing their dance,  
biding his time.  
But oh, he was tempted!

So, perhaps, indeed, another time.  
At a far more dangerous hour.  
With a very lethal Phryne.


	30. S2 E04 Deadweight by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playtime at Luna park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Miss Fisher.  
> I believe I owe you a ride on the great scenic railway.”

It had been a mock challenge.  
Issued when it wasn’t probable.  
Taken when least expected.

Looked forward to  
like a child’s present.  
Enjoyed as an adult set free.

He was caught  
in a feeling of perpetual motion.  
A precursor to actuality.

From the moment he decided to go  
he felt a lightness emerge.  
A latent wish to just have fun.

That it was in Miss Fisher’s company  
made it all the more compelling.  
This, he would allow himself.

This, he would relish  
and give into.  
Indulging his playful side.

It had been too long submerged.  
And he knew  
she would indulge with him.

Fostering his joyfulness.  
Sparking his imagination, and  
feeding his desire.

Yes, always that.  
Always beneath and behind his feelings.  
About her – about them.


	31. S2 E06 Marked For Murder by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swirling emotions at the Abbotsford game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Anything could happen. Even a Collingwood girl would have to stay for a game like that. So what do you think? To humour an Abbotsford man.”

They were dancing.  
Beneath their seated state  
they were in motion.

Thoughts twirling around.  
Emotions spinning.  
Nearly running amok.

Nerves humming.  
Blood flowing.  
Muscles tightening.

Every cheer uttered.  
Every glance exchanged.  
Every move subtly closer.

It was a dance.  
And not for the first time.  
In their thoughts…

But in reality,  
A possibility to come true.  
In time - maybe this time?

To dance as they wished.  
Unrestrained and unobserved.  
Hearts fulfilled and happy.

As they joined  
and flowed together  
in a perfect rhythm.


	32. S2 E07  Blood At The Wheel by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To give up or not to give up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “…So you're giving up me instead? What we do best, us, together.  
> You'd sacrifice that? If you did that, Jack, I would feel.  
> I would feel like it was you lying in that wreckage.  
> Please, can you think about that? I will.”

Everything went dark.  
All to black and grey.  
No color, no light, muffled sound.

This must be how it is  
when you’re dying.  
Cold and dark and muted.

He sat in his car,  
having told her  
he would think about it.

Think about not leaving her,  
not leaving them.  
To him, it was the same.

But no thoughts would come.  
Only a cold numbing grief.  
Life without her…

He was reminded of battle.  
The choking, blinding haze.  
The paralyzed, then reflexive actions.

No time to think.  
then, too much time to think.  
No way to know what came next.

 

She sat in her parlor  
drink untouched,  
glass held to forehead.

No feeling.  
No thinking.  
Dull and flat and colorless.  


She was reminded of war.  
Of being on the battlefield,  
where all you could do was keep going.

One cautious step at a time.  
One brief thought at a time.  
One careful action at a time.

She had hated the waiting.  
Just going through the motions.  
Hoping to be alive tomorrow.

 

Then, through their fog,  
An emergence…  
Clarity in the murk.

Survival instinct.  
A call to action.  
They responded like muscle memory.

Each remembering.  
How they relied on their intuition.  
Found pockets of peace.

Somehow getting through.  
Processing the horrors.  
Cleaning off the evidence.

Each knowing their deeper capacities.  
Their strength and ability to recover.  
To regain some kind of normalcy.

Could they do that here?  
Could they find a way?  
Could they find each other again?

They both hoped  
in their hearts  
that the answer was yes.


	33. S2 E08  The Blood Of Juana The Mad by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting waltzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “…I think we're more of a waltz, Miss Fisher. Not a tango? A good waltz is slow, and close. I'll try to stay in step, all the same.”

“Waltzing me,” her mother’s phrase.  
Repeating in her mind,  
over and over, almost in ¾ time.

Waltzing me.  
Waltz with me.  
Lead me to you.

Show me the facts.  
I’ll do what I do.

Turning me.  
Bending me.  
Holding me close.

Letting me feel.  
When you’re at your most…

“Phryne? Are you ok, Phryne?”  
“What?"  
"Jack?”

“You were dancing around  
and singing to yourself, Phryne.”  
“I was?”

“I was, uh, practicing, Jack.”  
“So I could keep up with you.”  
“Uh Huh!” Jack smiled.


	34. S2 E09 Framed For Murder by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living the dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Did you have a boyhood dream, Jack, to tread the boards or bat for Australia?"  
> "Oh, to ride the Tour de France, but then the war happened."  
> "And what were your girlhood dreams, Miss Fisher?"  
> "I'm living them, Inspector.”

To be free.  
To have choice.  
To live adventurously.

To enjoy life.  
To not be ruled.  
To share the wealth.

Those were her dreams.  
In fantasy  
and in truth.

After constrictions.  
And grieving.  
And War.

All she wanted  
was to indulge her whims  
and follow her heart.

To live each day  
without censure  
and explore life’s treasures.

Her independence, ultimately important.  
She took nothing for granted.  
She made everything count.

Because of it,  
she recognized a truth and a wisdom.  
About who she was and what she needed. 

That truly,  
had been her childhood dream  
with Janey.


	35. S2 E10 Death On The Vine by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phryne effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “And I need to thank you for coming to my rescue."  
> "Is that what I did?"  
> "Eventually. And you paid dearly in the millinery sense so, there.  
> For the next woman who uses you for target practice.”

She placed the hat on his head  
just so.  
Reaching up to angle it, just right.

In doing so, she stepped close.  
Close enough to touch.  
Close enough to feel.

Then she stepped back.  
But he could still feel her.  
Like some magnetic force.

It took him a moment  
to come back to the room,  
hear what she was saying.

While he  
tried to focus on staying upright,  
leaning on the mantle for support.

Would she always affect him like this?  
Suddenly pull him out of time?  
Into his own moment of sensation?

He didn’t need a woman to target him.  
She had already captured his heart.  
Healing wounds left by others.


	36. S2 E11  Dead Air by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new duet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So, Archie, looks like it's back to your old life, don't stop because of me.”

So he kept on playing  
“Let’s misbehave…”  
She joined him in duet.

Sitting there, he realized,  
as Archie,  
he could be with her this way.

He liked the feeling.  
And she did too.  
They were relaxed, comfortable.

As he sang with her he observed  
a new level of intimacy for them.  
A new sharing of himself.

Music let him be who he really was.  
No need for Archie’s façade,  
Jack was fully Jack in music.

If Archie had gained her interest,  
then Jack could too.  
“After all,” he thought, “We are the same man.”

“Do you want another, Miss Fisher?”  
Phryne looked at him for some time  
then said, with a soft stroke to his face.

“Jack, I will always want another  
and another from you,  
that I may hear your dulcet tones!”


	37. S2 E12 Unnatural Habits by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack ponders his "nobility."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The man who always does the right thing.  
> The noble thing.”  
> “Not always, Miss Fisher.”

“Noble,” Jack thought,  
“When had he not felt that?”  
He couldn’t remember.

It was bred to the bone.  
A part of him.  
Like a sibling - or a child.

He could remember his father  
telling him what being noble was,  
citing histories of it.

His mother,  
getting dreamy eyed  
at her recollections.

His boyhood charades,  
with his brother or sister.  
Always being the brave knight.

Fighting for what was right.  
What was fair and just.  
Courageous and merciful.

He had started so long ago.  
Figuring it out.  
Doing the right thing.

It kept him engaged.  
Fulfilled him.  
When life’s other choices didn’t.

He was quietly proud  
of his noble self.  
In a way, it defined him.

He valued being a protector.  
Using his intelligence  
and power appropriately.

Also - being adaptable.  
Now, to being a partner.  
With Phryne.

With her, he was no less.  
In fact, he was more.  
“Noble” took on a new meaning.

It exercised his character.  
It freed his heart.  
It allowed him choice.

“Not always” was a lie.  
But not being so strictly bound  
might just be an option – with her.


	38. S2 E13 Murder Under the Mistletoe by Shamashe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and his conscience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “… I don't want anyone taking chances, so lock your door.”  
> “But, Jack, if I lock my door, nobody could get in.”  
> “It's too great a risk, Miss Fisher...”

Moving down the hall.  
Candlelight guiding.  
Past her room to his.

Key at the ready.  
Time to choose.  
Thoughts racing.

“Don’t look back, Jack.  
Don’t go back.  
Don’t ‘double-check’ her lock…”

Don’t… Don’t… Don’t…  
Deep breath.  
This wasn’t the time.

No matter how convenient,  
how tempting,  
how much he wanted to.

And oh, how he wanted to!  
But! - He couldn’t indulge,  
not now.

If he entered now  
he would never leave,  
he would be lost in her.

Always wanting more,  
always wanting to be more.  
“Too big a distraction, Jack!”


	39. S3 E01 Death Defying Acts by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne's father and Jack's sobriety get tangled up in Phryne's mermaid costume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited until the Third season came on again and so it has. So I post this last set of PhrackU's. Hope you like them!

“Come in. Come in. -- And what are we drinking to?

To magic. To mermaids. To my wonderful daughter.

To leopards changing their spots. -- And to miracles.”

 

 

So much had happened

in so few days.

Plans instantly altered.

 

A death,

an attempted murder,

a startling confession.

 

Par for the course

in _her_ world.

Jack’s too.

 

But now – her Father!

He managed, always,

to drag in his messes.

 

It was too much!

Just his showing up

cost her a date with Jack!

 

His theater scheme,

cost her the money he lost.

Altogether - just too much!

 

So _just_ this favor…

to flush out a killer.

Then _he_ must _leave_!

 

And take his “nerve tonic”

and “damnable cravat” with him.

Poor Jack couldn’t take any more.

 

She sat on the bed, gazing tenderly.

He was so relaxed.

Out cold - but relaxed.

 

Safely ensconced

in Mr. B’s PJ’s,

she smiled.

 

If only’s, did no good.

Possibilities?

Still possible.

 

But - tank sabotaged,

drowning eminent,

survival was more key.

 

Thankfully,

she had an extra

tucked away!

 

Jack to the rescue?

Not quite what she had in mind,

but worth his costume appraisal.

 

She wondered if indeed

she would swim for him again,

sometime?

 

After all, a “mermaid”

seldom turned down opportunity!

But first - her father.

 

And to the toasts at hand…

To “magic” and “leopards”

and “miracles!”


	40. S3 E02  Murder and the Maiden by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack reflects, over and over.

“Well, no doubt you have more dashing heroes in your past.

If there weren't, I wouldn't be here. -- To heroes, then.

And to the one as yet unsung hero who has saved me over and over again.”

 

 

 

Jack grinned as he looked at Phryne.

“Over and over,” she had said.

But, in truth, he was the one who was often saved.

 

Each time he knew she was safe,

he felt as though his life expanded again.

That he was free to breath again.

 

Each time he knew she knew the answer,

but shared the solution with him,

he felt his respect for her go up.

 

Each time she returned alone,

without a current lover,

he felt renewed and hopeful.

 

And each time she showed up in her finery,

flaunting and flirting with him,

he felt more desirable as a man.

 

Funny how their definition of “saved me”

was so very different.

But “over and over,” even “unsung” was true.

 

He craved her insight and her beauty.

She craved his care and respect.

They both craved the zing between them.

 

Over and over

they circled and met.

Hero’s to each other – sung and un…


	41. S3 E03  Murder and Mozzarella by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack muses about being "taken" and what if's?

“Have you thought about it, Gianni, what I am offering to you?

I've thought of nothing else…

… But you, are taken.”

 

 

 

Yes, he _was_ taken.

How could he have even doubted it?

Not admitted it?

 

To himself,

to her,

and yes, to Phryne.

 

But always complicated with Phryne.

Even something so simple,

not easily stated.

 

She had been clear about commitments.

Did he really need to be more clear himself?

Did he need to have _this_ known?

 

Honor demanded that he be honest

but honesty wouldn’t change Phryne’s position.

Or would it?

 

Jack smiled at his own thoughts.

What if?

A sudden list of possibilities flew through his head.

 

But, ever the pragmatist, Jack soon stopped the flow.

What if?

He wasn’t sure he could make any of them happen.

 

Driving back to work he continued to think,

what if?

In the end, he decided to investigate.

 

Keep an open mind.

See what presented itself.

As he always did…


	42. S3 E4 Blood and Money by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sweet and tart of life while enters the blue swallow.

 

“A lemonade toast to the children we were.

To the adults we've become.”

 

 

 

In a way,

it was the perfect drink

to toast transitions.

 

Sweet, for the memories.

Tart, for the lessons.

And cold, for a dose of reality.

 

For never to be forgotten

were younger days and nights,

striving to keep safe and warm.

 

Childhood wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

They both stood for a minute

reflecting on their changes.

 

Phryne played with her new blue swallow.

Jacks eyes never leaving her face.

But his eyes smiled with a new awareness.

 

“Something amusing, Jack?”

“Just noticing, Miss Fisher,

how this drink is a perfect mix.

 

Sweet, tart and refreshing.”

“Much like us, Jack,” Phryne grinned.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

 

“Really? Am I that sweet?”

“And me, Jack, am I that tart?”

They toasted again, smiling

 

“To our sweetest moments

that a bit of tartness only enhances.

May we always be refreshed by each other!”

 

As they clinked,

they both smiled tenderly,

marveling at the adults they were.


	43. S3 E05 Death and Hysteria by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting up couch time

 

“Which reminds me, you never did tell all about the Chinese brothel.”

“I have trouble recalling trauma.” “Jack Robinson, you promised me.

Do I have to put you on the couch and psychoanalyse you?”

“Sounds inviting. Perhaps another time in a more intimate setting.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

 

 

Her mind was whirling.

It had to be perfect.

What stage should she set for him?

 

He seemed willing to tell

but, not _that_ willing!

She’d have to compel him.

 

Maybe a full Chinese dinner?

No - too Lin.

Maybe Mu Shoo though?

 

Tempting him with hand rolled food.

Whilst providing a mystery to savor.

All his favorite things...

 

And perhaps an orchid!

A subtle way to weave touch into tell.

She could see it play out.

 

Yes, her mind was whirling.

And what to wear?

A visual feast or layers to peek? Hummm.

 

 

And his mind was whirling.

Did he dare elaborate?

Was this a prelude or a game?

 

Should he create the scene

and act it out?

Or prompt her to investigate?

 

Intriguing.

Risky.

Exciting.

 

What if this went further?

Was he ready?

Was she?

 

Questions could abound,

but in the end, he had a feeling

she would create what she wanted.

 

And he, would comply, to a point.

After all, prelude or not

it really _was_ their game.

 

And he could bend the rules

just as well as her.

And oh, was it fun to play…

 

So he began to prepare.

His story, his approach, his awareness.

For he might just end up - on Phryne’s couch!

 


	44. S3 E06 Death at the Grand by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they danced a waltz like flowing silk

 

“The waltz is a very serious dance.” “And I'm a serious man.”

“My mother lost all reason when she was waltzed.”

“Well, if she hadn't, this would be a world without a certain Phryne Fisher in it, and what kind of world would that be?”

 

 

 

As he took his first steps

with her in his arms,

he looked at her.

 

He was still mesmerized

when in close proximity.

And she knew it!

 

They’d come far in a short time.

He couldn’t imagine life now

without her in it.

 

All his senses were heightened.

He could hear her hair swish.

And her quickened breath.

 

He smelled her perfume as they moved.

Felt her silken skin and silkier dress

beneath his hands, through his clothes.

 

So like silk was she.

Smooth - sumptuous - sensual.

Possibilities built in, yet to be discovered.

 

He came back to the moment

noticing that she seemed lost in hers.

“You dance well, Jack”

 

“Have you ‘lost all reason’ yet?” “Hummm.”

Just who _was_ “being waltzed” here?

Maybe it was him?


	45. S3 E07  Game, Set & Murder by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing the game…

 

“I aced you, Miss Fisher.”

“You just caught me off-guard.”

 

 

 

He justified it to himself.

He _had_ debated playing her.

He needed to give her a sporting chance.

 

He really didn’t know how good she was,

given her skills at everything else.

Besides, he did admire her - ahem - form.

 

Getting to play _and_ observe was rare.

He enjoyed her delight in her efforts.

He wanted to see if she had any flaws.

 

Not in her character,

he knew better,

but in her self-professed ability at the net.

 

After all, he _could_ just win the game.

Well, at least he thought he could!

It never quite turned out that way with her.

 

Like making her his “Special Deputy.”

Thinking he could control things -

always a questionable concept.

 

He returned the serve by instinct.

Heard himself laughing.

Saw her look of amazement.

 

Saw her walk towards him.

The sun behind her - revealing…

Heard her voice.

 

What was she saying?

“…I suppose you'll be wanting your badge back, then.”

She met his eyes with a smirk, then a question.

 

He watched her slowly unpin it.

Reluctantly succumbing to his challenge.

Accepting defeat? Doubtful.

 

He waited, enjoying her closeness for a moment.

He thought of how she matched his honor –

reflected his qualities.

 

Even if he _had_ been dubbed her “ball boy.”

He snorted at the thought,

but had to admit, it _was_ a good picture of them!

 

“No, I think you've earned the badge.”

She smiled up at him

with joy and subtle vulnerability.

 

Game won, case wrapped,

he gifted her his very own Buffalo Bill.

Reaching out to pin it on her.

 

Yes, this _was_ a gift.

This moment, like others,

so alive, so precious…


	46. S3 E08 Death Do Us Part by Shamashe (new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne flies on her wings and Jack's prayers

 

“I always feared another man would sweep you away from me.

I never thought it'd be your father.”

“There's a whole world out there, Jack.

He's the least of your worries!”

 

 

She flew away

and he stood there watching,

wondering if ever he’d see her again?

 

Wondering if his “romantic overture”

meant to her, what it meant to him.

He had a feeling that it did.

 

She’d responded with matching ardor

to his kiss of farewell - and return.

She’d said, “Come after me, Jack!”

 

For a moment, he was stunned.

“Come after me? How could he?

How could he _not_? How could he just wait?”

 

He knew she’d be back,

yet he stood there watching her vanish.

Feeling her absence acutely.

 

Yet feeling her presence too.

Within him. Around him.

Her smell, her touch, her breath.

 

He sank into the feel of her lips,

her body,

her arms around him.

 

He finally turned and drove home.

Feeling her presence even more.

And he sent a wish out to her.

 

“Be safe Phryne!

Hold me in your heart.

Come back and share it with me.”

 

“For we have much to explore

you and I,” he smiled,

“And whole new adventures to begin.”


End file.
